Thursday, April 28, 2011

Here's a look from "Should your doctor be on Facebook", a column by Dr. Danielle Ofri in today's New York Times. It's about doctors, but it could just as easily be about rabbis. Here's an excerpt:

I worry that it is impossible to maintain a perfect firewall, so I’ve decided to limit my online presence to the professional side of my life, keeping personal information off the Web. And before I post anything anywhere, I try to imagine what a patient of mine might think if she stumbled across it. Would it make her cringe? Would she feel awkward during her next office visit? Would this somehow compromise our relationship?

This means letting go of the fun and casual side of social media, but I think that’s simply part of the territory of being a doctor. It’s the same reason I don’t wear flip-flops and shorts to work, much as I’d surely love to. Giving up posting vacation pictures doesn’t seem like a particularly high price.

Doctors — like everyone else — are entitled to private lives, with all the attendant warts, embarrassments and unflattering moments. But now that any patient can Google a medical team, doctors — like teachers and lawyers — need to consider issues of professionalism before sharing their private lives.

Much to contemplate here. For example:

Will you see your Rabbi as a leader, if you read his blog post about entering the rabbinate and you know he is less than confident about leading, or he is not properly trained?

Will you accept your Rabbi's moral instruction, if you have seen his taste in music and you think he's coarse and unsophisticated?

Will you be able to concentrate on the Rabbi's speech on Shabbat Shuvah once you have seen him in vacation shorts and a Hawaiian shirt?

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

[I wrote this several years ago in a different - and snarkier - forum, and in order to have something new up here after Pesach, I'm pre-posting this to appear Motzaei Yom Tov.]

The percentage of general restaurants that fail is very high; the percentage of kosher restaurants that fail is so close to 100% that you couldn’t squeeze a limp Burger Nosh french fry through that gap.

Why do so many Kosher restaurants fail? I see three reasons: The owners, the customers, and the food.

The owners:In my experience, many kosher restaurants, especially those outside of New York, are started by people who have already struggled in other businesses and who figure that this niche should be an easy hit.

I heard this from a would-be entrepreneur once: “Look, they love food. And they for sure want to eat out, who wants to cook every night? And there are no options locally, people have to drive XX minutes to get to the nearest kosher place. I could even do catering. I’ll have them eating out of my hand!”

The result is that quite a few of these restaurants are run by people with little business acumen, with a weak business plan, and without an inkling of just how much work they are going to have to put into the place. They often find themselves compelled to overlook aesthetics, and even basic cleanliness (that “eating out of my hand” reference above is pretty literal). Fresh vegetables? Fresh out of the freezer, maybe. Service with a smile? With a snarl, more like.

The customers:Now we’re really talking the stuff of nightmares.

Actual conversation in a kosher deli:Customer: There isn’t enough pastrami on this sandwich.Waiter: It’s a turkey sandwich.Customer: What, you ain’t never hoid of putting pastrami on a turkey sandwich? They always used to do that in the old kosher delis.Waiter: You ordered a plain turkey sandwich, and we don’t put pastrami on a plain turkey sandwich.Customer: Hey, don’t you know the rule, the customer is always right?

Okay, so maybe that’s exaggerated, but not by much. Line-cutting, rudeness to the wait staff (you know, it’s not the waiter’s fault that it takes them forever to prepare your food), kids racing around under the tables, complaints galore…

And, of course, the food.

There’s only so much you can do to kosher food when you are trying to prepare it in large enough bulk to feed a large crowd but not in such a large bulk that you throw 75% of it into the trash.Cold deli sandwiches are easy, and certain standbys freeze well, but how fancy can you get when you’re expecting five to fifteen people to order a given dish on a given night? In New York you’ll have larger volume, but outside of New York, forget it.

Often, the restaurateurs think they’ll make it by appealing to a non-Jewish clientele as well. “Everyone loves pizza,” they say, neglecting the fact that the sentence really goes, “Everyone loves pizza with treif cheese and an assortment of treif toppings.” Ditto for Middle Eastern, Chinese, TexMex and every other kosher crossover they dream up.

It’s a simple matter of variety, as well as profit margin and economies of scale. Memo to these owners: You. Can’t. Compete. With. Treif.

So there you have it, folks: The Owners, the Customers, and the Food. All of it adds up to lots of failed restaurants, and lots of wannabes in hock up to their eyeballs to pay for their dead ventures.

Hmmm. Come to think of it, we could apply the same principles to why synagogues struggle/fail: The Board/Rabbi, the Congregation, the Davening… something to think about there…

Saturday, April 23, 2011

This is the fifth installment in a translation of Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin's responsum on Jewish unity. The Netziv continues to respond to an editorial which argued that observant Jews should separate from less-observant Jews, for the sake of protecting their piety. For previous parts of this series, click here.

In this part, the Netziv argues that Jews don’t even separate from members of other religions, despite specific instructions to do so and despite the evidence of millenia of Jewish suffering associated with assimilation – and so any drive like this would be unsuccessful. He then continues to contend that separation isn’t the right strategy, in any case; rather, the emphasis should be upon spreading study of Torah.

Second: HaShem desires that we should be separate from the other nations and alone, as it is written, ‘Gd will guide them to be alone.” Bilam said, “They are a nation who dwells alone, and will not be counted among the nations,” meaning that when the Jews are alone and do not mix among them, they will dwell at rest, and when they mix among the nations then they will not be considered an independent nation. It is also written, “And Israel dwelled securely, alone, the eye of Yaakov,” and the meaning of “the eye of Yaakov” is Gd’s desire, His vision, and this is that Yisrael should dwell securely with the nations, not to compete with them, to be alone, meaning to separate from the nations of the world and not to be mixed in with them.

And yet, despite these instructions, we have not separated on our own from the nations, as is seen in the Talmud (Sanhedrin 104), “It is written, ‘How did she come to dwell alone,’ and Rabbah cited R’ Yochanan, saying, “I [Gd] said, ‘And Israel dwelled securely, alone,’ and now we have come to, ‘Why does she dwell alone’ for the nations distance themselves from the Jews on their own.”…

And from the start Gd warned Avraham, “Your children will be strangers in a land that is not theirs,” and this was not only prophecy but command and warning, to make it so. This is why it is written regarding Yaakov, “And he sojourned there,” and the Sages taught, “This teaches that he did not descend there to sink in, but to sojourn there…” This does not mean that Yaakov descended with intentions not to remain there for his entire life but to remain only for some years until the famine would end. This cannot be said, for Yaakov had already heard from Gd, “I will make you a great nation there,” and so he knew that he would be there for many years, and that this would fulfill Gd’s word to Avraham, “Your children will be strangers in a land that is not theirs, and they will be made to work and they will be oppressed for four hundred years!”

Rather, “He did not descend there to sink in” means that he did not descend to become a citizen of the land, as Pharaoh wished and demonstrated in honoring Yaakov and his children. Yaakov said that he did not wish for this citizenship, but, “We have come to sojourn in the land,” to be strangers in a land that is not ours. He guarded the word of Gd to Avraham, “Your children will be strangers,” and Gd’s word stands forever.

Because of this Divine instruction, what does Gd despite all of our attempts in exile to become like, and become one with, the nations? Gd turns the heart of the nations to distance the Jews and isolate them. This is why we say in the Haggadah, after the verse, “And He said to Avraham: Know that your children will be strangers in a land that is not their own,” “This is what stood for our ancestors and for us, that not only one stood to eradicate us, but in every generation they stand against us to eradicate us, and Gd saves us from their hands.” “This” cannot refer to the promise to Avraham that we would exit with great wealth, for that was only stated regarding Egypt… Rather, “This” refers to Gd’s word, “Your children will be strangers.” This promise stood for our ancestors and for us, guaranteeing that in every generation they would stand against us to eradicate us, when the Jews do not wish to fulfill Gd’s word of being strangers in order to be a separately identified nation. We try to draw near and join with them, and therefore they stand upon us to eradicate us. But Gd saves us from their hand.

This is also why we say, “Go learn from what Lavan the Aramean tried to do.” Lest someone who considers himself wise say that the opposite is true, that if only we were completely integrated with the nations then we would not be hated by them and they would not try to destroy us – to this we reply, “Go learn from what Lavan the Aramean tried to do.” We were very close to him; all of us were his children! And yet he tried to uproot everything. “Everything” does not only refer to Yaakov, for then it would have said, “tried to kill our father.” Rather, the meaning of “everything” is all of Judaism…

And yet, despite all of this, it has been difficult for us to distance ourselves from idolaters, because it is against the natural human inclination to join with friends, whether they are good or bad. How, then, could we tell our children to separate from each other in all of the ways of our world?!

Rather, if we wish to strengthen religion in our midst and not let it weaken in our hearts and in the hearts of our children, then we must study the earlier generations, as it is written,“I will learn from the elders.” When righteous King Chizkiyahu saw that the pillars and foundations of religion became weak in the days of Achaz, what did he do? He placed a sword in the study hall and declared, “One who will not involve himself in Torah should be stabbed with the sword!” Even though this study would be for entirely wrong motives, meaning it would not be for the sake of the mitzvah of Torah study, and certainly it would not be out of love of Gd but only to save themselves from death, still, this point strengthened religion effectively…

So we should strngthen religion by spreading Torah in study halls, and developing all possible strategies to strengthen public Torah study, and not to examine whether people are studying for proper motivations or not…

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Just now, I was sitting at my computer working on a Business Ethics shiur for this series, for after Pesach. I looked at some old notes of mine from a previous Business Ethics series, and started researching references from Rabbi Dr. Aaron Levine's book, Case Studies in Jewish Business Ethics.

While looking up the material, I thought about Rabbi Dr. Levine himself; aside from learning from his writing, I was fortunate to sit on an RCA committee on Jewish Business Ethics with him a couple of years ago, and I learned much from the experience. Rabbi Dr. Levine presented a firm vision of the ethical and the realistic, and how to proactively promote ethical conduct in industry. He also took the time to explain his views at length to me, a tyro.

Then, as I was working on this, my Inbox showed a new email, from RIETS Rabbinic Alumni. The Subject line - "Baruch Dayan haEmes - Rabbi Dr. Aaron Levine z"l":

We regret to inform you of the untimely passing of

RABBI DR. AARON LEVINE z"lHusband of Rebbetzin Sarah Levine.

Chairman of the Department of Economics at Yeshiva College &Rav of the Young Israel of Avenue J in Flatbush.

There was a short service tonight at JFK airport (cago area B, building 23) before the 11:30pm flight to Israel.

The levaya will be in Israel today, Thursday, April 21st, at Eretz Hachayyim Cemetery in Har Tuv (near Bet Shemesh) at 7:30pm.

Rabbi Aaron Levine was the Samson and Halina Bitensky Professor of Economics and chairman of the Department of Economics at Yeshiva College of Yeshiva University. Elected to Phi Beta Kappa at Brooklyn College, he was awarded his MA and PhD by New York University. He was ordained in Jewish ritual and civil law at the Rabbi Jacob Joseph School. A noted authority on Jewish commercial law, Rabbi Levine’s research specialty was the interface between economics and halakha, especially as it relates to public policy and modern business practices. He had published widely on these issues, including five books and numerous monographs. His books include "Free Enterprise and Jewish Law" (1980), "Economics and Jewish Law" (1987), "Economic Public Policy and Jewish Law" (1993) "Case Studies in Jewish Business Ethics" (2000) and "Moral Issues of the Marketplace in Jewish Law" (2005). Rabbi Levine was active in the area of conflict resolution, and serves as an ad hoc rabbinical judge and arbitrator in the bet din of the Rabbinical Council of America. Rabbi Levine was an associate editor of the journal Tradition, a member of the advisory council for the International Center for Jewish Business Ethics and a nominee for the World Jewish Academy of Science. He just recently published a book he edited, The Oxford Handbook of Judaism and Economics, after the 2005 publication.

Shiva will commence following the chag.

We've lost a great thinker, teacher and leader. All I can say is Baruch Dayyan haEmes.

Monday, April 18, 2011

In part it’s a function of our national history; with so few friends, and with those friends generally acting out of realpolitik rather than sincere sympathy, why shouldn’t we be cynical? Whether it was Lincoln contravening the anti-Jewish Order 11 in the waning days of the Civil War, or Trujillo opening the doors of the Dominican Republic to Jewish refugees in the 1930’s, or George W. Bush supporting Israel 70 years later, it’s always been possible to read selfishness into apparent selflessness, especially as those alliances have not always been as solid as we would have wished.

And in part cynicism is a product of our education; our ancestors were cynical about the world, and about themselves. Talmudic sages reflected on the Roman contribution to civilization, and dismissed it as a side effect of hedonistic pursuits. The same sages looked upon their personal piety and deeds and questioned the purity of their own motivations. Our own contemporary roshei yeshiva challenge us every Elul to inspect ourselves with questioning eyes, and in their honest zeal for self-analysis and self-improvement they encourage us to feel better only when we succeed in finding weakness in our greatest successes.

There is a place, properly מוגבל (bounded), for cynicism,

But one result of cynicism, when taken too far, is an inability to accept Good as Good; an inability to subscribe to a philosophy or support an initiative without qualification; an inability to believe that our role models are truly good and kind and sincere and well-meaning; an inability to respect people, including ourselves; an inability of religious leaders to believe that עמך, the rank-and-file Jew, longs for spiritual growth, if only in his/her own way; an inability to recognize the kindnesses that others have done for us; and an insistence upon finding the flaw and the smallness and the inappropriate in the Good and the philosophy and the initiative and the role models and the people and the עמך and the kindnesses.

This is devastating.

But then we have Pesach, the anti-cynical holiday.

On Pesach there is no cynic in our midst; the בן נכר, the one who has estranged himself from Gd and community, is not welcome. Instead, we are all believers.

It’s a celebration which summons us to immerse ourselves, and our families, in belief and trust, and not in self-conscious doubt.

It welcomes us to read biblical verses and sing ancient songs, to get into it with our children on their level and to re-live it late into the night on our own.

It begs us to drop our cloaks of intellectualism [I am not a fan of hyper-intellectual, pilpulish haggadot, although I recognize that they have their place] in favor of subjective personal experience and the haze that accompanies four cups of wine.

Its garment is the white of the kittel, pure and honest and uncomplicated as the day of death.

Its call is the romantic song of Shir haShirim, holy of holies, my beloved, my dove, my perfect one.

May the romance that is Pesach remain with us far beyond these few days.

Friday, April 15, 2011

In February of 2009 I signed up – yes, voluntarily – to receive email from DMA, the Direct Marketing Association. I can’t remember why. Maybe I was looking for marketing tips for my community, or perhaps I wanted to order a book from them, I don’t know.

But I actually volunteered to receive email from the trade association for commercial emailers, cataloguers and telemarketers. Something must have been wrong with me that month.

Anyway – I’ve spent the past 30 months trying to get off of their various email lists. It’s like a Whack-a-Mole game; every time I unsubscribe from one list, I receive email from a new list. Or three new lists.

Don't get me wrong, I know that telemarketers, flyer publishers and so on are people like you and me, trying to make a living in a hard economy. I understand that. But being on the receiving end...

So the other day I received this remarkable DMA email, with the subject line, “Nominate a Leader-Make them a Legend”:

Who inspired you?Nominate a direct marketing legend to the DMA Hall of Fame

Do you know someone who has made significant contributions to direct marketing? Someone who has established themselves as a leader in Interactive, Mobile, Social, Print, or TV? Someone who has mentored and inspired, achieved greatness and encouraged excellence?

Well, now is the time to give them the credit they deserve. Nominate them for the DMA Hall of Fame—the highest honor an individual can receive in the direct marketing community.

Anyone can be nominated — a boss, a mentor, a colleague. And hey, if you’re the best direct marketer you know, you can even nominate yourself. Nominees do not have to be DMA members, they simply have to be successful, inspiring, and influential.

So who do you think deserves to be honored? Nominate them today (or at least by April 30th). It’s quick. It’s easy. It’s the Hall of Fame.

A Hall of Fame for the people who brought you junk flyers and telemarketing. You can’t make this stuff up.

I can hear the acceptance speeches now:

"Growing up in the South Bronx, I always dreamed of making the Hall of Fame, like any red-blooded American boy. I listened to stories of my idols, men like Robert, women like Sandy, who would call skillfully thirty homes simultaneously, knowing exactly which buttons to press to reach a single mother putting her children to bed, or a man who had an hour to be with his kids before going back to work for third shift, and with some kind of sixth sense understanding which one to keep on the line while letting the others receive dead air when they answered the phone.

"I knew that this was what I wanted to do when I grew up - and that I would do it well, well enough that one day all of you would gather to pay tribute to my work, my persistence, my sales, my persistence, my dialing ability, my persistence. [emcee tries to signal him to wrap up, but he waves off the signal, to the knowing smiles of the crowd] I want to thank my mentors, my role models..."

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Korban is one of the most tangible expressions of the relationship between human and Creator, an incarnation of thanksgiving or apology or loyalty or joy, celebrated in the sanctum of the Jewish nation. Such a powerful religious experience, so rich in possibility but so vulnerable to abuse and misunderstanding, must be governed by regulations regarding its substance, time and place, its attendants and its ritual.

Even in the regimented world of the korban, though, the korban pesach stands out for its unique Divine prescriptions. In particular, only the korban pesach must be roasted over an open fire.

I'm proud of this article, which sprang from an idea we explored in Daf Yomi for Zevachim. Getting to the point requires a trip through some fairly esoteric material, but I took a lot of time trying to make it clear, because I believe the message is important. In particular:

We cried out for relief from our Egyptian suffering, but we were selected for national exceptionalism without our agreement; no Jewish slave in Egypt requested a covenant or a land. Our pain was our only concern; indeed, when the enslaved Hebrews witnessed Moshe’s initial failure to deliver them from their agony, they protested his very presence, calling upon HaShem to judge and punish Moshe for catalyzing Pharaoh’s increased cruelty.

Pesach is not about the realization of a national dream; rather, Pesach is about the My Fair Lady extraction of slaves from their milieu and their forced metamorphosis into the royalty that is Yisrael. In this context, Ceremony is of far greater importance than Volition. Giving a slave free rein does not convert him into aristocracy; an unfettered slave remains a slave in his thoughts and deeds, and his liberty is wasted. Ceremony is necessary in order to transform his worldview, his input and therefore his output, to suit the palace. As the Sefer haChinuch is wont to comment, “ אחרי הפעולות נמשכים הלבבות ,” “After deeds are the hearts drawn.”

Seen in that light, the Seder’s emphasis on ceremony is most sensible. The ritual of the Seder is the story of a slave learning his freedom and adjusting to the world of imbibing and reclining, to a sense of himself as someone who serves no man. And in this context, the korban pesach, too, must emphasize Ceremony over Volition. If the slave wishes not to roast the korban pesach but to boil it, he is told: Now you must become a king.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

The Netziv continues to respond to an editorial which argued that observant Jews should separate from non-observant Jews, for the sake of protecting their piety.

The editor wrote as his eyes saw, as he is there, that our generation is not like earlier generations. In earlier generations [he alleges], intermediate people were not in such grave danger of rejecting the yoke of Torah and commandments, as are the wayward and yoke-rejecting people of every generation. Today’s time is different; the Jew who does not intend and desire to stray from the Torah of Gd and to weaken on his right, is still in danger if he does not place Gd opposite him always, being careful lest his feet stumble from the path of life. Without paying attention, he could lose his eternity and his hope from Gd and from His holy Torah. One cannot contradict what the senses perceive, but examination of why this has happened is required.

First, one should know that it is not as the editor wrote, that since Yehudah was sanctified and Yisrael became a nation, there was never a generation as lawless as this, Gd-forbid. The truth is otherwise.

Even when we first entered Israel, and for many generations afterward when the compulsion for idolatry reigned and burned like an oven, as seen in Sanhedrin 102b, no one could be certain about himself that he would not come to idolatry, unless he acted in a path of piety, to continually turn his thoughts and path to Gd. We learned this from Yehoshua’s message to Israel (Yehoshua 24) after he laid out before them the possibilities of serving Gd and of serving the gods of the Emorites. He wanted the nation, “You cannot serve Gd, for Gd is holy, etc” and they replied as one, “No, for we will serve Gd,” and Yehoshua continued to say, “You are witnesses to yourselves that you have chosen to serve Gd,” and they declared, “Witnesses.” He added, “Now remove all foreign gods from your midst, and turn your hearts to Gd, Gd of Israel,” and the nation replied, “We will serve HaShem our Gd, and we will listen to His voice.” It is not clear what warning Yehoshua added at the end and what the nation replied. It is that Yehoshua knew that the inclination for idolatry would reign in Israel… and so he warned them not to trust their current desire to serve Gd, and he said, “If you truly accept that you will not worship idolatry, remove the foreign gods from your midst” against your will, meaning, even that which the Canaanites worship in your midst, remove against their will, so thatyou will not be drawn after them. “And turn your hearts to Gd,” meaning not to depend upon the idea that you could never come to idolatry even were you not turned to Gd. Turn your hearts to Gd, place Gd opposite your hearts always. This was Yehoshua’s warning, knowing prophetically that the inclination for idolatry would be in Israel, but the Jews did not know and the nation of Gd did not contemplate Yehoshua’s warning, and they replied this time as well, “We will serve HaShem our Gd and listen to His voice,” meaning that we need not worry so much. Even without turning our hearts continually to Gd, in the manner of piety, we will worship Gd and not idolatry. But what happened? In those generations they violated Yehoshua’s warning and stumbled for many generations…

The editor ruled and advised this generation to be cautious, to separate from each other entirely as Avraham separated from Lot. I beseech the editor! This counsel is harsh as swords to the body of the nation and its existence! When we were in our holy land, almost in our dominion, in the time of the Second Temple, the land was ruined and the House was destroyed and the Jews were exiled because of the strife between the Pharisees and the Sadducees! And needless hatred caused much bloodshed, and all without legal grounds. When a Pharisee saw someone being lenient insome matter, even though that person had simply sinned and was not a Sadducee, still, because of needless hatred he judged the person a Sadducee, who could be caused to die! And so bloodshed spread with permission and as a mitzvah, in error. The Torah hinted to this in Bamidbar 36:34, as is explained in Haamek Davar and Herchev Davar there. It is not unimaginable to think that we could reach that stage, Gd-forbid, today as well, such that in the eyes of a person who holds on to religion, one who does not follow service of Gd could be judged a heretic and distanced, and one would pursue the other with false, imaginary legal permission, and – Gd forbid – he could destroy the entire nation of Gd, even were we in our own land and dominion.

This is certainly true when we are conquered, in exile, the Jews as scattered sheep among the nations, compared to dust of the ground in exile, as Gd told Yaakov, “Your descendants will be as the dust of the ground.” The nations are compared to great, flooding waters, as Yeshayah wrote… And there is no way to save a clod of earth in the flood of great waters, unless the dirt will become hardened stone such that a river flooding it would not be able to roll it other than from place to place, without destroying it entirely. So, the Jews among the nations have no way to be saved other than to be the stone of Israel, to be joined in one group, such that no nation or tongue could destroy them.

How, then, could we say to separate one man from another, so that the nations would come and drown us bit by bit, Gd-forbid!

Monday, April 11, 2011

[I hope to return to the Netziv translation in a bit, but this has been sitting on my plate for a while.]

In my opinion, a synagogue rabbi doesn't need all that many ingredients in order to do a good job: He needs a head, a heart, and a work ethic. And yet, it seems to me, based on anecdotal reports, that North American synagogues and rabbis part ways at an alarming rate, often in the first few years of a relationship. Why is that?

There are many reasons, of course. It’s not always that congregants are evil. (heh) And it’s not always that rabbis are ill-suited for their shuls. And part of it is the North American rabbinic job description.

But part of it, I think, is that the rabbi-shul business model is inherently challenged by five factors:

1. The rabbi's product must satisfy a large percentage of the customer base, providing their needs, as a basic definition of successful performance.Contrast this with food producers, who need to satisfy a much smaller percentage of the market in order to be considered a success. Coca-Cola, for example, has a 17% market share, and Diet Coke is #2 at 9.9%, followed by #3 Pepsi at 9.9% – Imagine a rabbi with that kind of “success”!

2. The rabbi's product is served to the customer base daily, or with even greater frequency, so that there is a high rate of producer/customer interactions, opening the possibility of occasional failure to satisfy.Contrast this with attorneys and stock brokers, who meet with their clients only occasionally.

3. The rabbi's product is marketed directly to the customer, with little investment by the rabbi or by any middle man in promotion.Contrast this with makers of just about any commercial product, who invest in promotion directly or through a middle man or vendor who has an investment in successful promotion.

4. The rabbi's customers are highly connected, and communicate virally, so that negative feedback is spread quickly.Contrast this with clients of professionals, or customers of stores, who are far less connected even in today's age. I don’t know anyone else who drinks Boost Plus, or eats Liberte Yogurt, and could not communicate a critique to any of them other than via an at-large tweet or blog post.

5. Alternative products are easily available in many markets.Contrast this with the airline industry.

Indeed, the rabbinate isn't the only 'business' to face most of these challenges, and to have trouble as a result. Consider the following three industries which experience an oft-noted high turnover rate, due to challenges inherent in their industries as well as many of the factors listed above:

I don’t know how to change this. Promotion can be solved, I suppose, but that’s it. Shuls are never going to want rabbis who satisfy 17% of their congregants, since they can’t afford to hire other rabbis to reach the remaining 83%. Rabbis will continue to have a great many regular interactions with congregants. The viral communication remains, as does the existence of alternative ‘products’.

The first part of this translation of the Netziv's responsum was here. The Netziv continues to respond to an editorial which argued that observant Jews should separate from non-observant Jews, for the sake of protecting their piety.

First of all: One should know that the commandment we read daily, “You shall love HaShem your Gd,” includes two meanings, which are explained in the rulings of the Rambam. First: One should give his body, soul and desire to the desire of Gd. It is as one who loves his only son, such that he would abandon all he had for his only son’s life, for that is the entirety of a person. So one is commanded to give himself to sanctify Gd even in a case of danger, as the Rambam wrote, “How do we know that even in a case of danger one may not violate one of these three sins? As it is written, ‘And you shall love HaShem.’” This is possible and required for all Jews, for that is the entirety of the Jew. Second: One should draw close in his thought and desire to grasp Divine inspiration whenever possible… and so the Rambam wrote, “We are commanded to love the honoured and awesome Gd, as it is written, ‘You shall love HaShem your Gd.’...” And this latter element is not possible for every Jew… It is understood that not every person can merit to achieve this, and so is taught in the Sifri…

One who immerses himself in love of Gd and in drawing close to Him is following a path of special piety, for this is not possible unless one separates himself from the paths of the world. This is what is called “to the right”, meaning that he draws exceptionally close to the Shechinah. One who stands upon this lofty path cannot join with people, even to teach them Torah and proper behavior, for every conversation with people interrupts his thoughts of drawing close to Gd. It is possible only in isolation. Only Moshe Rabbeinu was on this level. Even when he spoke with Israel, after speaking to them he replaced the veil upon his face and ascended in his thoughts to his proper place. This is different from other prophets and people of great levels, even Avraham Avinu, who did not remain in his place and in his closeness to Gd when teaching others the path of Gd and Gd’s Torah, as he did when alone. The Chatam Sofer spoke about this… but since his spirit desired to be close to Gd always, he is also termed “to the right”, as will be explained.

And then there is one who serves Gd and observes Torah in all of its particulars, but he does not know the principle of love and of drawing close to Gd, and he does not live in isolation at all in order to achieve this love. This was the way of the early philosophers, who never left the way of Gd and His Torah, Gd-forbid, and they taught others of the greatness of Gd and His Torah, but they did not know how to love Gd closely. Those are called “to the left”, meaning that they are very far from nearness to Gd and to Divine inspiration.

And some travel an intermediate path, meaning that during Shema and the Amidah one draws his mind to love of Gd and being close to Him, but during the rest of the day he walks worldly paths. There are some who called ‘pious’ in this intermediate group as well, but in a way which is different from the ‘pious ones’ identified above. They are pious in their deeds. Within this group, too, there are two paths which are termed ‘pious’, one of a person who helps the community acquire merit… and the second a person who performs mitzvot separately, beyond human nature… So that there are three Jewish paths of special piety – those to the right who adhere to love of Gd, and two who are pious in their deeds.

To be continued...

Here is the Hebrew I translated here, including passages I omitted from the translation:

Thursday, April 7, 2011

I love coming across random responsa by accident. Yesterday I accidentally came across Meishiv Davar 1:44, and I was floored that I had never heard of this responsa. This is Rav Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin’s response to an editorial that promoted separation of observant Jews from less observant Jews.

I expect to translate the responsum in the next several posts, as I make time. (It’s more than 4500 words in the Hebrew, so give me time…) Here’s Part I:

I saw an editorial called “Right and Left” in the journal Machzikei haDat [“Those who hold on to religion”], #3, in which they came to address a question requiring reply. Since we are obligated to participate in strengthening religion in Israel, I cannot flee from this. I will present before the nation of Gd, those who hold on to religion, may Gd bless them, that which is in my heart in this analysis, and if someone else can reply and clarify the issue in some other way then may his words come and illuminate the path of life. Even if we are far from each other in dwelling, we are close to each other in our desire and yearning to come to the right target, with the help of Gd who provides intellect.

They arranged the question as: (1) Could the Jewish religion divide into three streams? (2) Is there a right, left and center in the path of our faith? They added that in their view, the elements of right, left and center in religion existed in years past, and perhaps in Israel there were three such groups, meaning righteous people who distanced themselves from the world’s issues and did not benefit even a pinky’s worth from this world, and opposite them were wicked people who threw off the yoke of Torah and awe, whether out of ignorance or wanton ill-intent, and that the middle people were those who were simple in their ways, traveling in the way of the world and not rejecting the Torah.

I saw, with all due respect to the editor, that he did not conclude with that with which he began. He began to investigate whether there is right, left and middle in religion and in the path of our belief, and he concluded that the left is an abandonment of the yoke of Torah and awe of Gd – but this is not within religion, it is outside of the path of our faith! Also, the language of, “Are there three groups like this in Israel” is unclear – what is the question? Regarding three groups, perfectly righteous, perfectly wicked, and intermediates?

Rather, this would be the way to analyze: Are there among the guardians of faith and religion, who do not break the fences, right, left and center. This is the question which requires proper clarification.

In truth, there are three groups in Israel, and according to our explanation, with our humble abilities, those are the ones identified in Torah as “to the right” and “to the left”, as will be explained.

I identified four elements which I believe are necessary, in order to establish halachic consensus in any matter of law:1. A clear understanding of our traditional sources2. A clear understanding of physical reality3. A culture that encourages healthy debate4. A compelling argument

A clear understanding of our traditional sourcesWe need a clear understanding of the traditional sources, in order to develop an approach which is consistent with those sources.

A clear understanding of physical realityWe need a clear understanding of physical reality, in order to understand the circumstances in which halachah is operating, and to be able to apply halachic considerations to the specific cases involved.

A culture that encourages healthy debateWe need a culture that encourages healthy debate so that rabbis will be able to take positions or change positions, challenge ideas and receive serious replies.

A compelling argumentAnd we need a compelling argument that says, “We need to go this route,” when matters are not entirely clear or unanimous. Halachah is inherently conservative [ ברי ושמא ברי עדיף, שב ואל תעשה עדיף and so on], and quite comfortable saying, “I don’t know.” In order to move from “I don’t know” or “Better not” to a practical verdict of action in a case of uncertainty, there must be a compelling reason to do so – pikuach nefesh, for example.

In the Brain Death issue, we have none of the above.1. The primary sources themselves are complex, and certainly appear contradictory.2. Most of the responsa with which today's rabbis wrestle were written at a time when the scientific data on the state of the brain during "brain death" was still evolving - indeed, many argue it is still evolving today.3. The discussion is taking place against a backdrop of acrimonious accusations and a resulting defensiveness.4. The compelling arguments on each side balance each other out - Pikuach Nefesh is used on both sides. And the cases themselves are rare enough that the issue isn't coming up daily, to demand resolution.

I believe this Set of 4 applies beyond the Brain Death issue; we can apply this to any number of on-going debates in the Jewish community, from Conversion to Use of Electricity on Shabbat to the Role of Women in the Synagogue.

If we have these four elements present, we’ll see a conclusion. Otherwise, we’re likely to be left with a תיקו [“Let the debate stand”]. {Which isn’t always a bad thing.}

Monday, April 4, 2011

Some weeks back, I was sitting in a shul somewhere in Canada waiting for Maariv to begin, and I heard a man learning with his pre-adolescent son. They were talking about the mitzvah of לא תעמוד על דם רעך – “You shall not stand by your brother’s blood” – which requires us to act to save others who are in danger.

The father explained to his son that this is a critical mitzvah, that we must stand up on behalf of people who are in need. So far, so good. But then he said, “This is especially a problem in America; people there don’t help each other.”

Wow.

I wanted to say to him, "I’m an American, pal. Where do you get off generalizing about an entire country? That’s horrible chinuch (pedagogy)." (And I’m a New Yorker, so I also wanted to hit him, but that’s another matter.)

Not to mention, he was wrong – wasn’t he?

I instinctively assumed he had to be wrong, although I had no statistics to offer to the contrary. Of course he was wrong. How could he be right? Wasn’t my life saved by… um, no, come to think of it. But didn’t I have a relative who was in… no, not that, either. Didn’t I know someone who was saved by a stranger’s intervention, or something? Um… no.

So all I had to go with was my general intuition that Americans are not the soulless, internally focussed drones who ignored the screams of Kitty Genovese in the 1960’s. Not exactly convincing, that.

But it realy did bother me, and continues to bother me, in terms of the generalization. Did that really serve a purpose in educating his son? Did his son internalize the lesson of intervention by picturing genial Canada’s southern neighbor as a self-centered slob?

It reminded me of the way that some Jews generalize about non-Jews in teaching their kids, actually. Also a very uncomfortable thing.

Bottom line: I don’t think we need to put down others in order to teach our children lessons about positive behavior. And Gd bless America.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

During my first year of study in Israel, when I was eighteen or so, I celebrated “chutznik” Simchas Torah at what was then known as the Laromme Hotel in Jerusalem, along with a few hundred other Anglo students. We davened, we sang, we danced, we ate, it was wonderful.

We were yeshiva-student males, so most of our dancing consisted of concentric circles, with the more energetic working their way into the inner rings until they tired. I was among those in the center for quite some time, until I was tapped on the shoulder by a more senior student, who said something along the lines of, “You don’t always need to be in the middle.”

I don’t think I even answered him; as I recall at twenty years’ distance, I simply melted sheepishly into the outer circle and stayed there for the rest of the dancing.

I don’t remember who the killjoy was; I don’t know that I ever knew his name, actually. But his words stayed with me, and the doubt they generated remained strong over the years, in arenas far from Simchas Torah: Why am I in the center? Am I looking for attention, for approval?

This is a substantive question for a shul rabbi, and it bothered me greatly when I occupied the pulpit. Even as I knew I was doing a lot of good for a lot of people, I was always dogged by that doubt: How much of what I do is not to satisfy the Divine, but instead to satisfy the people around me? Do I visit, speak, teach, advise, eulogize, dispense assistance, sit in boards and on committees and so on because I know it’s the right thing to do, or because I want people to admire me? And it did cause me to back out of the spotlight, from time to time.

Of course, everyone must admit that there is an automatic element of self-service in their world-service. Human beings are insecure and seek approval. Human beings want the respect of others. Human beings enjoy praise. To deny this would be foolish. But I wanted to know that there was also a genuine altruism, a desire to do right for right’s sake.

So I found opportunities to lock off parts of my activities, keeping them away from the public eye. I suited up as Anonyrabbi, so to speak, doing favors and taking care of people’s needs without anyone knowing who had done it. Flowers for Shabbos, a tuition bill paid, a kiddush augmented. This way, I could prove my own sincerity to myself.

But that’s not necessarily a good long-term strategy for a Rabbi – because if a rabbi’s activities are under the radar, if the rabbi succeeds in avoiding the spotlight, then people start wondering why he isn’t involved in X, or taking care of Y. The rabbi needs to publicize his activities, unfortunately; he needs to dance in the middle of the circle, for utilitarian reasons, and live with the self-doubt that generates.

I thought leaving the pulpit would help me deal with this self-doubt, but I still hear that voice challenging me when I am in the center. I suppose I always will, because (1) Most things we do involve, to some extent, that search for approval, and (2) Many things we do are public.

On the other hand, it’s not a bad thing, being troubled by this question. It keeps me honest; I can hope that as long as I am asking the question, I won’t stray too far from the right answer.